


Of pot plants and loose cables

by sshysmm



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Ficlet, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, is that a tree fern or are you just pleased to see me?, new neighbours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 11:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sshysmm/pseuds/sshysmm
Summary: Cassian Andor is sitting down to watch the election results when he notices his new neighbour struggling with an unusually large pot plant...





	Of pot plants and loose cables

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing all the RCSS posts must be making me feel guilty about not writing them for a while, and I've been meaning to back up things otherwise only on my tumblr. Originally posted in response to these tags by mardymaid:
> 
> #so clearly this is the start of a photostory#he’s crawling under the tv to adjust the cable#when he catches sight a beautiful woman moving into the flat upstairs#struggling with the largest half dead house plant you have ever seen#she looks so pissed off he’s not sure how it is going to go if he offers to help#so he’s just looking and wondering#when she catches sight of him and..#well he’s going to have to explain#he wasn’t just ogling her arse#diego luna#and his campaign to will most oddly staged photo shoot award
> 
> Original post here: https://ienthuse.tumblr.com/post/165260828384/so-clearly-this-is-the-start-of-a-photostoryhes

The results from his constituency were just about to come in when the picture flickered. Cassian muttered a curse and moved to the edge of the couch, leaning forward intently as if to will the TV not to do this.

“And - “ bzzt “ - ow getting - “ bzzz “ - ults from Fest - “ the reporter’s face distorted and the sound was swallowed by static.

“Ah, come _on_ ,” Cassian whined, leaving the couch to dive underneath the cabinet the TV stood on. He was still wearing his suit from last night’s count; he’d been helping Draven campaign late into the day and hadn’t yet had a chance to find out how things had gone in Fest. Now he wished he’d bothered to change as the pressed black trousers tightened at his hips and thighs. He shuffled his knees against the thick carpet and shrugged his jacket awkwardly as he reached around the side of the cabinet, trying to identify the loose cable.

His fingers followed it behind the thick folds of curtains, but his reach wasn’t quite enough. With a grunt, he flopped onto his side and craned his body further into the gap, squinting into the early morning light outside the window.

As his eyes adjusted, he noticed the removal van parked outside. The French window was open and at this angle he could hear muttering and clattering on the stairs to the flat above.

Through the static coming from behind him he identified a woman’s voice raining down curses, and curiosity let his fingers slip from the cable he’d been following. Cassian shifted on his elbow and pressed his forehead to the glass, twisting to try to see his new neighbour.

From this angle all he could spot were a pair of sandalled feet and pale legs scuffed with dirt and new grazes. On the metal step below the feet was the base of a large terracotta pot.

Cassian moved again, the cable forgotten as the TV completely lost its signal. With the hand closest to it, he pried the corner of the door, drawing it back so that the PVC frame didn’t block his view.

His gaze roved up above the grazed legs, past her denim shorts, hands on hips, heavy breathing in a tank-top, to her full red lips. Her mouth was open as she gasped from the effort of getting a huge potted tree fern halfway up the stairs, and now she glared daggers at the plant waiting by her feet.

Cassian tilted his head a little further, wondering whether he should offer her a hand. But even as he watched she stamped a foot and swore through gritted teeth, scrunching her lips together and aiming a flat kick at the edge of the pot.

The pot teetered, its balance unsteady on the narrow step. The top of the sickly looking fern swayed, threatening to fall backwards until with a noise of panicked outrage the woman bent forward to wrap her arms around its trunk, spitting as its leaves caught against her face. Her knees braced and her toes gripped the edge of the step, but the plant pot steadied.

Now he released the breath he’d held as she straightened momentarily to brush at her clothes. From the look of fury on her face he wondered why she’d bothered to save the plant at all.

She shifted on the step and leaned forward again to tug at the edges of the pot, trying to spin it on its base so that it didn’t hang off the runner so far. When she bent, Cassian couldn’t help but follow the long, pale line of her legs with his eyes, swallowing at the curve of arse that appeared below her stretched shorts.

Then she stopped trying to shift the pot, and her body twisted a little so that she could peer over her shoulder. She straightened in a rush and her green-eyed glare fell squarely on Cassian’s face, framed by the open door.

_Shit_.

He felt his stare go wide, his lips moving in preparation of giving her an explanation.

Her own mouth twisted, her hands returning to her hips, her frown deathly serious despite the dried fern leaf now clinging to strands of her dark hair. “What do you think -” she began, her voice high and her accent crisp.

Cassian struggled to his feet, shuffling elbows and knees awkwardly against the floor and stumbling into the door frame, trying to look casual with movements that were jerky and swift. “Sorry, sorry, I just saw you…just saw you struggling. Do you need a hand?”

She looked at the plant, then at him. “I’m not struggling. I’m fine.”

As she looked at him a flush of pink lit her chest above the line of her tank top, but she raised her chin in a challenge. “What were you doing down there?”

He folded his arms across his chest, raising his shoulders to his ears. “The cable on my TV was loose, I was trying to fix it…”

She didn’t look like she believed him, but now he’d been noticed, Cassian didn’t see any reason to back out. He shouldered his way past the door to stand outside, looking up at the plant and trying not to glance back at her.

“That’s a tree fern? They’re pretty rare, you don’t want to drop it.”

She eyed it, her face still aiming for hard indifference, but her frown now softened. “Is it? Are they?”

“Sure, and they take a long time to grow that big,” he circled the foot of the stairs, approaching slowly, as though she might suddenly bolt — or push the plant down towards him.

She stuck her plump bottom lip out and shrugged, messy strands of her hair tickling her collarbones. “It was my step-father’s, and before that, my mother’s. So it’s probably pretty old.”

A shadow seemed to pass over her bright eyes, and she glanced down at her feet. Cassian surmised that the plant had been an unexpected piece of inheritance, and felt a jolt of sympathy for her — she seemed too young to have lost both her mother and a step-parent.

“Let me help you get it upstairs,” he offered her a crooked, kind smile. “It just needs a bit of love, it’ll be healthy again in no time.”

She looked at him strangely, then again at the fern. “Oh. Oh, it’s not healthy? Okay then. Um, thanks.”

“Cassian Andor,” he reached a hand up around the side of the plant.

She allowed him a swift smile in return as she shook his hand. “Jyn Erso. Good to meet you.”


End file.
